


Laughing Gas

by Foxynite



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Gotham (TV)
Genre: Bodily Harm, Dexter-inspired, Drugging, Eventual Smut, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Joker's insane as always, Kidnapping, Marking, Mystery, Possessive Joker, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Torture, Violence, forensic science, i'll add tags as i go, plot heavy, you fight crime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-17 23:50:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13669899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxynite/pseuds/Foxynite
Summary: You're new to Gotham, you work for the GCPD, and The Joker is really just some urban legend to you.However, you soon discover that he's real, and with it you find yourself dangerously involved in the web of Gotham and the workings of the Clown Prince of Crime himself. But what happens when you fall for his charms?(Characters mostly pulled from the Arkham games and the comic lore)





	1. Chapter 1

Your eyes opened as you heard your phone vibrating against the dark, solid wood of your bedside table, playing it's loud little jingle. You fumbled for your phone, your tired arm hesitantly reaching for the ringing device. When you turned it over, the bright light caused you to wince, but upon seeing "work" as the contact who was calling you, you went ahead and answered it, holding back a groan of resentment of being called so early. 

As the phone connected, you could hear a bit of static and a slightly muffled voice. However, you could still make it out. You sat there, listening and letting your body wake up as the voice rattled out the information for you to pay attention to. There had been a murder last night and a body had been reported just about an hour ago by an anonymous pedestrian. They needed you down there to mark evidence and collect what you could at the crime scene. You let out a soft "uh-huh" and thanked the woman on the other side of the phone before hanging up. Slowly, you got up and stretched, grunting softly as you could hear your bones popping and feel your muscles and tendons, stiff from sleep, stretching out. Deciding there wasn't much time to get there before Gordon would probably call you himself, you settled for pulling on your outfit and giving your teeth a quick brushing and rinse. Better to get there instead of waiting for Gordon to call Batman in. 

You were grateful for what the masked vigilante was doing, but you could hardly stand him taking some of your tasks for himself. Finding clues, analyzing data, putting the pieces of the puzzle together? That was all supposed to be your job. Yes, it was nice to have a load off but there was still something that hurt when Gordon would turn to Batman instead of his own workforce. 

Giving yourself a quick look in the mirror, straightening your shirt and tucking a few loose strands of your hair behind your ear, you decided that you were ready to go. You plucked your keys from where they hung, locking your apartment behind you and heading down the stairs, which was better than the elevator considering your fear of small spaces. You got onto the bottom floor, the small security guard, Matthew, giving you a small look before glancing back at his phone. Not much to look at on the cameras, it seemed.

"Heading into work?" His eyes didn't even leave his device.

"Yeah, just got a call from dispatch. Gotta head up and take some pictures of the body. Mark any evidence. You know how it goes." You gave him a soft smile before you opened the door, feeling the chilly air swirl inside, hitting you with a soft blast. "I'll see you some other time, Matt. Work calls." And with that you stepped outside, letting the door of the apartment building slam softly with the force of the wind. Taking one more glance at the address that was sitting in your phone's text messages from dispatch's delivery system, you unlocked your car and off you went.

 

Arriving to the scene brought lots of bright lights and flashes of red and blue. The sun was just beginning to peak across the city's skyline, though the alley you were in still felt cold and dark, like the sun did nothing to this part of Gotham. You reached for the kit you kept in your car, getting out and walking across the pavement towards the bright yellow caution tape, warning of a crime scene. As early as it was, it was already attracting onlookers, curious to see what violence had unfolded overnight. A few officers stood by the tape, making sure no one who wasn't authorized would make it past into the crime scene. Flashing your laminated badge in their direction, you slipped beneath the tape and walked towards Jim Gordon and your partner, Thomas Bradley. 

"How's it looking so far?"

"Well, it looks like it could've been a robbery. Not much that we know right now. Three bullets through the chest and a lot of blood." Gordon gave you a look, his expression looking as grim and stern as always. Thomas shifted a little bit, handing you a pair of gloves to put on, which you did as soon as they were in your grip. Gordon shook his head a little bit, looking over towards the body. "Damn shame. It feels like we see one of these cases pop up every day. Just. . .work your magic and get back to me if you know what happened. If anything seems weird, anything that hints at something bigger than a robbery at gunpoint, let me know." And with that Gordon turned and walked away, most likely to head back to the office so he could continue working.

With his departure, Thomas led you across the alley to the body. He knelt down and you followed his action, squatting next to the cadaver. Indeed there were three shots marking his body. One through the heart, one in the shoulder, and another that had shot through his jugular. The body itself was limp and covered in blood, slick and shiny and a dark red like a fine wine. 

"Looks like our corpse didn't have that pleasant of a death. Messy doesn't begin to cover it." You sighed and got up, opening your kit and taking some evidence markers from Thomas. "Better take some pictures. Get plenty of angles, too. You never know what will help." Walking around, you began to place the little markers, paying attention for any blood spatters, your trained eyes picking them out from the dark, wet pavement. Whatever went down, you could already see a large spray of blood from where the victim was probably standing when he got shot. Taking a glance back at the victim, you decided that his jugular was probably shot while he was standing for spray pattern to occur. Of course you would have to bring it back to the office, probably do some work. But your gut was mostly right when it came to this stuff. 

Moving around, you looked at the wall where the victim's head was pointing. There were blood spatters, most likely from the bullet tearing through him. You shook your head a little bit, looking at Thomas who was photographing what you had marked. 

"Hey, I'm gonna try and find the bullets. And whenever you got enough pictures of everything, turn over the vic so we can see if all the bullets went through all the way." He nodded a little bit, listening to your command as you moved around, trying to see if you could notice any marks that could signify a bullet hitting something. Bouncing off the wall, maybe even shooting through something else.

Thomas moved up past you for a moment, his eyes spotting something you didn't. 

"Hey, over here. There's a bullet hole through the lid of the dumpster." Your eyes moved up to see where he had began to point. Indeed, there was a small hole through the black plastic of the dumpster lid. You gave him a small thank you of a smile and moved towards it, gently lowering the lid. There was bullet number one, embedded into the brick of the building. You left the lid how it was, letting Thomas get some pictures while you retrieved a bag for evidence and a pair of tweezers to pull it out of the wall. Thomas lowered the lid gently, taking another picture or two of the bullet in the wall before he stepped aside, allowing you to collect it as evidence.

"What about the other bullet? We need to see if we can figure out where this one pierced our body." Thomas nodded a little bit, leaving to grab some string. It was often used as a method to predict the path of a bullet when it was fired. After collecting the bullet, Thomas attached the end of the string in the little dent from the bullet, pulling it through the bullet hole of the dumpster's lid. Gently setting it back up, he pulled the string until it was a straight shot through the lid and into the dent.

"Following it back a little bit, it appears to be-" he kept backing up, gently stepping around the blood of the victim until stopping, "-about shoulder height on me. Our victim appears to be as tall as I am. I don't think it's too far to think that this was the bullet that went into his shoulder. However, we probably need to do some more research before being able to determine where and how he was standing." Thomas followed the string back to where he had set it up, rolling it up and placing it back into the little case he carried over his shoulder. "Help me turn the victim over?" You nodded a little bit, moving back to the body as Thomas crouched down once more. He grabbed the victim's arm from the opposite side, pulling on him, while you got into position to push him up and over.

On a count of three, the two of you managed to roll him over onto his side, your eyes roaming his blood-soaked shirt for any bullet holes. 

"Well, I see a bullet hole about where the one ripped through his shoulder, but I'm not seeing another one for the bullet that hit his heart. We should get him back to get an autopsy. That bullet might've struck a bone and rattled around in him a little bit. I bet the boys in the morgue will be able to find it if it did." He nodded a little bit, agreeing with you as he called over the two officers waiting to whisk the body off for closer examination. They covered him and wrapped him up before leaving with the body to take it down to the boys in the morgue.

"Let's keep looking. I'm not seeing much else, really. But we should do a second sweep. My guess is that the victim may have been staggered by the first bullet and that one that cut through his neck? It's probably somewhere else. I took pictures of the blood splatters, too. This large spray in front of where the victim was standing? There was a clean spot, like someone got hit with some of that blood. There's gotta be someone that saw someone staggering away. What do you think?" He looked towards you, waiting like usual for your expert opinion on his theory. Letting your eyes scan across the blood pattern, you couldn't help but see it as a possibility.

"Definitely. Call Gordon and let him know. It could've been an object, too. But tell him that he might wanna send out officers to sweep the neighborhood. If there really was a man covered in blood, then I'm sure he didn't go unnoticed." You smiled, moving away from him to complete a more thorough sweep of the place. It was dark, damp, and filthy. This was gonna be a while.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started watching Gotham recently (which actually inspired me to keep writing this, haha) so I'm gonna add in some of the characters to the workforce at the GCPD
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you think so far, and let me know if there's anything you'd like to see!
> 
> By the way, I promise you'll get to discover it's the Joker next chapter and you'll get to meet him in another two
> 
> Like I said, I like to move things slow, not just rush in like most of the fanfics I read

That morning at the crime scene had felt like it lasted a lifetime. Finding all of the big stuff - body, blood, sometimes bullets - was all easy to do, but when it came to searching for anything and everything you could use in a dark, dirty alley? Well let's just say that a lot of "evidence" was most likely irrelevant. You just hoped that the team sent out to graph the neighborhood had talked to somebody who saw the unsub getting away from the scene. It'd be unfortunate if Gotham PD didn't have any footholds to begin working on the case. If anything, though, his prints were probably in the system. Men who die like that? Most likely petty criminals. Maybe he got in the way of someone bigger and badder than he was? 

A small tap on your shoulder jolted you out of your thoughts, a bemused chuckle coming from your partner, Thomas. Promptly, he dragged a chair over towards you, sitting closer to you to talk since his desk was on the opposite side of yours in the bullpen. 

"I could tell you were thinking. What about?" You cast a glance in his direction before shaking your head with a small sigh.

"Honestly, I don't even know. I was just thinking about the crime. Usually when we see guys like him go down, shot in some dark alley in the middle of the night, it mostly leads to two things. Either this guy saw something happen that he shouldn't have seen, or he got into someone else's territory and," you used her finger to trace along your throat just below your chin. Thomas' eyebrows furrowed for a moment as he thought it over before finally speaking again.

"In someone's territory? You mean like he got his boss angry or maybe ended up messing around with someone's guys? I mean, it wouldn't be the first time something like this has happened." You smiled, tapping your nose with your index finger.

"Bingo. The way it was done, too. I mean, one shot is usually a warning or it's from someone that gets scared, meaning they haven't killed someone before. But not to mention the way his jugular was shot out first? And our unsub that probably got splattered with blood wasn't traumatized enough to flee, but instead took two more shots. What does that tell you?" You leaned back a bit in your chair, watching as the realization dawned across Thomas' face.

"So he's probably done something like this before. Should we tell Gordon?"

"I think we should. It may not lead anywhere, but anything we can try and get a grip with can work. This guy didn't even steal anything, so if anything we're looking for someone in the system who's either been charged with homicide before or has a long rep sheet of violent crimes like vandalism and stuff. I don't know, but I'd have our tech guru look into it for sure."

"Alright, well I'll let Gordon know what you're thinking. Are you gonna let Fawkes know, or should I. . .?"

"No, no. You handle Gordon and I'll let Derek know what to look for in our archive of criminal records." And with that, Thomas took his leave, placing the chair he took back, and heading off to go to Gordon's office. And, thus, you went your separate way as well. 

Derek Fawkes, the head of anything to do with computers, was usually off in, what you jokingly called, his hobbit-hole. He was comfy there, surrounded by monitors and frequently polishing his security program for fun. You made your way through the bullpen with ease before turning off into a small, dimly lit room. Inside were about five monitors and one tech genius sitting at the desk, working on one of his various tasks. Always small, but relevant in a way to the department.

"Hey, Derek. How's it going in here?"

"It's going good, just trying to program something that might help my search engine go a little faster."

"Can I get you to access something for me?"

"Yeah, of course. What do you need?" With that, he turned around in his chair, just enough to he could actually look at you.

"Can I get the criminal records pulled up for anyone with violent crimes or homicide charges? The guy we're tracking? He's not new at this." You moved closer to him, leaning over his chair quietly with one hand resting on the back of Derek's chair and the other hand pressed firmly against his desk, watching his screen as he quickly maneuvered his way into the records, a small screen popping up and scanning quickly through different profiles before it stopped, giving a list of previous men the department had brought in. 

He scanned through them quietly before he spoke, his eyes barely leaving the screen. "I think that there's too much crime in Gotham for you to narrow it down. Got anything for a profile? Something I can narrow the search with?"

"No, I'm afraid not. Guns are impersonal, but there's nothing that says our unsub hasn't gotten their hands dirty before. I guess we just have to wait for the autopsy report to come back in. It should arrive in a couple minutes. I sent it off to the lab techs not so long ago." You sighed a little, moving a piece of hair behind your ear as your eyes glanced at the digital clock in the lower right-hand corner of the computer. "Maybe another half hour. Thanks anyway. Can you mark those guys for later? We could find something on the autopsy report that could narrow the results." With a nod, it was done. The list was saved and you made your way back out of Derek's hobbit-hole. The only thing left to do was wait. But, of course, that always felt like the most impossible thing to do.

Just as you returned to your desk, you saw Thomas rushing over to you. He looked excited, which was a good sign at least.

"Hey! Autopsy report came in earlier than expected. Not much to search over, but we found something unique. A special chemical. The doc can't figure out what it is, but if we get Ba-"

"No." You cut him off before he could finish saying it. You knew you didn't run things here, and the decision rested on Gordon, but you didn't like the fact that this masked vigilante gets all the credit and fame. "We can dissect the formula in our own lab."

"But, look, I know you don't like the guy, but he has technology that's advanced way past our own. He can help! Wouldn't you like to get this guy off the streets? Like you said, he's probably killed before." You closed your eyes, trying to keep your cool. You hated it when Thomas was right about stuff like this.

"Fine, we can get his help. But let me manage it, alright?" Thomas nodded, handing over a vial, a few drops of blood inside. You know what you had to do, so, grudgingly, you pulled up your cell to call Batman. You left the office, already heading towards the roof, listening to the ring on the other end before you heard it click as he answered.

"Yes?" His voice was rough, but also sort of groggy, like you had just woken him up. You smiled a little bit, glad that you weren't the only one that got your sleep interrupted this morning.

"Hello, this is CSI (y/ln). I'm calling about a chemical sample we have. It's too complicated for us to unravel quickly, so our lab was wondering if we could get your help on this." You heard a brief moment of silence on the other end before you heard him speak again.

"Of course. I'll be there on the roof in a few minutes." And, without any other courtesies, he hung up. You let out a little huff, slightly upset but also glad. And now another wait began. You took a seat in the shade of the structure that covered the stairs, leaning against the wall with your phone in your hands. You scrolled through your media feed absently, looking at what other people were doing that you somewhat knew, yet never really talked to, in high school. A whole lot of nothing, really. Some were married, some had kids, and a few were already doing really good in life. Most of them moved away and you could see why, but you liked Gotham. Despite its flaws, this was your home and you didn't want to move far since you've never really been away from Gotham before. Even vacations were at least an hour or less away. 

Your eyes looked up from your phone as you heard the distant rumbling of a jet. In broad daylight, the Batjet, or whatever Batman nicknames his stuff, you didn't really care, looked less menacing than it did at night. Within a few seconds, the jet was there, hovering over the building, as Batman jumped out of his vehicle. Without any introductions, you held out the vial for him to take.

"Please make it quick." He silently took the vial from your hand before giving a brief nod.

"I haven't talked to you before. Are you new?"

"No, I just kept away from you. I like it that way." He smiled, looking amused at what you had just said. He began to open his mouth, like he was going to say something else, but you hardly gave him a chance, walking away before he could say anything else. You felt semi-accomplished, but also a bit like a jerk. Then again, you were glad someone didn't just do what he expected.

It was a brief interaction, and you kept it that way, going back into the GCPD building, down the stairs and back to your desk where Thomas was waiting. He raised an eyebrow as you appeared, an unasked question of how things went lingering in the air. 

“Before you ask,” you began, “it was short, sweet, and I got straight to the point and sent him on his way. And yes, I was a little rude, too.” You couldn’t help but smile at that last bit. 

“You’re awful.” Thomas said it with a chuckle, but it was obvious there was a hint of seriousness to his tone. “I mean, c’mon (y/n). I know you don’t like him, but he’s still a good guy. Just trying to help out. 

“If he wanted to really help out, he could have joined the GCPD. Or he could put that mystery fund of his to good use and maybe donate to the force. Or he could let us use some of his technology. He’s just in it for the fame, Thomas. Admit it.” You looked towards your partner, but he was silent, just letting out a small sigh and shaking his head.

You rolled your eyes a little bit, sitting down at your desk. It was already fairly busy this morning. Some people were still in lock-up, and there were already people taking up new cases. 9 AM and there were already five more. Of course, this meant that evidence was sure to be rolling in anytime now. 

Glancing towards your boss, the Lieutenant, or the Captain as some officers preffered to call him, was sitting down, looking over case files with his reading glasses resting on the edge of his nose, looking somewhat frustrated. You knew that all of these unsolved cases didn’t rest easy on his shoulders. After all, the GCPD was supposed to do their best to protect the people of Gotham, yet here these files were, unsolved, just showing how poorly the department was doing to take care of the Gothamites. 

Thomas snapped you out of your thoughts once more. He snapped his fingers in front of your face, knocking you out of your thoughts, before you looked at him, somewhat embarrassed, and somewhat annoyed. 

“What is it?” He looked at you, motioning towards the main doorway into the building. Your eyes followed the direction he was pointing, and, much to your delight, you saw someone being brought in by two cops, struggling and covered in a splatter of blood. 

“I say we go see what he knows. Might be our guy.” Thomas grinned, moving over, asking the two officers what was going on, why he was brought in. And, overhearing small fragments of the conversation, you knew that it had to be the guy connected to the case. While you and Thomas weren’t really in charge of the case, you two were still curious about how the cases all went down. And, getting up, the two of you began to follow the struggling man, Thomas snatching up a swab to take a sample of the blood for testing, sure that the detective on the case would want them to investigate it anyway. 

And, once the two of you caught up to the two cops dragging him in, that was the first thing you heard out of Detective Bullock’s mouth. Thomas, taking the initiative, already had the swab out and wiping down part of his face, picking up the dried blood that was there. 

“If this blood matches the victim, we’ll have results in a few minutes, maybe ten or so? But there’s no guarantee, so don’t rough him up too much until we know for sure, okay?” Bullock chuckled a little bit at your words, shoving a hand in his pocket while the other ran across his thick, unkempt, peppered beard. 

“Sure thing, (y/n). Get back to me as soon as you can.” And, watching Bullock walking into the room with the suspect, you and Thomas made your way down to the lab, just across from the ME’s office. The ME was a nice lady named Lee. She was observant and did a good job. A lot better than the lazy fool before her that used to overlook evidence on the bodies of victims. Though you had no time to reminisce, moving into the office. There was already a stack of requests for the two of you to look over for ongoing and new cases. But this case, since there was a suspect in custody, took priority. So, while Thomas working on getting results on the blood sample, you started to work at some of the other things that other cops in the precinct needed looking over and testing. 

*a little while later* 

After some time had passed, Thomas tapped on your shoulder, sliding over a sheet of paper with the blood results on it. You looked over it, reading it briefly before finding what you needed. There it was, printed plain as day. It was positive. 

“Let’s go tell Bullock.” You looked up at Thomas, snatching the piece of paper from the desk before the two of you made your way all the way back to the interrogation room where Bullock was waiting, talking with himself, brainstorming ideas. Well, he didn’t have to brainstorm for long. He looked up at you as you approached. 

“Good news?” Bullock looked expectant. Handing over the paper without out anymore fluff, you watched him read it. His face practically lit up. Well, in his own special way that is. He smiled, a smirk really. “Thank you. Now, I’m going to sweat that muck for all he’s worth.” 


	3. Chapter 3

As you and Thomas return to work, while Harvey Bullock knocks around the possible perpetrator, you finally receive a call on your cell. At first, when you look at it, the number brings itself up as being an unknown or blocked caller. You almost ignore it for a moment before the thought of Batman calling back enters your mind. So, ready to hang up if it’s a telemarketer, you answer your phone.

 

“Hello?” You place your work aside as you answer the call, flashing Thomas a reassuring grin as he looks at you, wondering what’s going on, before you exit the room, moving into the hall. 

 

“I’ve got the results on that strange chemical on the victim.” So it really was Batman. You guessed that he was calling from a different phone than the one you have in your contacts. Strange. What other phone could he be using? The image of Batman sitting talking to you with one of those phone boxes briefly entered your mind, causing you to smile.

 

“Yeah? What’d you find out?” Your eyes turn towards the bullpen once more, watching the officers moving around as you listen to his answer.

 

“It’s a strain of Joker’s laughing gas. It’s evolved, but it’s not lethal. It seems raw, like it hasn’t really been perfected.” You scoff a little bit, listening to his explanation.

 

You had moved to Gotham only a few months ago, transferring with the job to Gotham where they needed it. Since you’ve been here, you’ve heard about Joker, the infamous Clown Prince of Crime, but you hardly believed the stories, just believing it to be a Jack the Ripper kind of story.

 

“Oh yeah? And what about that should I worry about?”

 

“This might mean that Joker’s back. He’s been in hiding, or just rebuilding after his last attack on Gotham. I’ll need to investigate some of his connections, but I’m worried that he’s planning something. I’ll call Jim and let him know.”

 

“Don’t bother with that. I can see Gordon in his office from where I’m standing. I can just tell him myself, y’know.” And indeed you could see Gordon. He was in his office, the blinds open so anyone could see him. Meanwhile, he was in a call of his own, looking frustrated, like someone on the other side had told him something unpleasant. You almost forgot you were still on the phone until you heard Batman clear his throat on the other side of the phone. “Huh? Yeah? Sorry, I spaced out for a little bit.”

 

“I said that there are details I need to discuss with him. He needs to know about this.” You rolled your eyes. The “Dark Knight” certainly didn’t seem to get the message.

 

“And like I said, I can tell him. Look, I’ll just tell him to call you if he has any questions, okay? Now go back to whatever you were doing before you called me, okay? Goodbye.” And with that you tapped the little red icon on your phone’s screen to end the call. 

 

With the call done with, you move back into the room where Thomas is waiting. The interrogation is still going on, but when you move back into the room you can see that the suspect has a bloody nose, like Harvey broke it or something.

 

“Who was that?” Thomas gives you an inquiring look, his eyes darting briefly at the phone in your hands before looking back up to your face. You shrug and wave your hand a little bit as if to dispel the conversation.

 

“Just Batman’s analysis of that strange chemical. Said something about laughing gas or whatever. Anyway, I was just gonna check in before I report it to Gordon. So just like. . .stay here or something, okay?” You give him a smile, taking another glance at the poor thug in the room before slipping out again. He looked like he wanted to say something, but you closed the door before Thomas could speak. Now to talk to Gordon.

 

Approaching his office felt a little intimidating. You’ve never really gone into his office uncalled before, and seeing that he just hung up the phone, still looking pissed from earlier, made you feel as though it might be a bad time. Regardless, the information was relevant and you knew Gordon would want to know. So, finally reaching the door to his office, you opened it, stepping inside the doorframe. 

 

“Gordon?”

 

“What is it?” His words were sharp, his bushy eyebrows furrowed together. Your shocked look drew him back, however and he sighed, taking a seat behind his desk. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. Just. . .press is riding my ass about this case. Someone leaked the details of the case.”

 

“Well, there’s always gonna be some dirty cops. This is Gotham after all, right?”

 

“Yes, yes. . .well, is there something you needed?”

 

“Oh! Yes. I sent the sample off to Batman so he could analyze it and he got the results. He said something along the lines of it being like the Joker’s laughing gas, but something more evolved. He said it wasn’t lethal, though.”

 

“The Joker? Shit, this case is worse than I expected.” You raised an eyebrow as you noticed how convinced Gordon seemed. It almost made you want to believe that this Joker guy really was real. “Look, just keep this between us, okay? And Thomas, too since he is your partner in the lab. I don’t want this getting out. The press will have a field day with something like this. And then the phone will start ringing with worried citizens. Ugh, it’s all just a headache to handle.”

 

“Well you sure seem to have your hands full. I’ll leave you to it, then. And if you have any questions, just call Batman. He seems to know more about this chemical than me or Thomas do.” He nodded his head, resting his head in his hands. You wanted to say something to him, try to comfort him. “You’re doing a great job, Commissioner. Don’t let this stuff get to your head, okay?” You offered him a smile, but he didn’t look up. You took that as your que to leave and quietly left his office, closing the door behind you.

 

Once you returned to the interrogation rooms, Thomas was waiting outside for you. He was holding a small box of evidence from another active case.

 

“Back to work?” You motioned towards the small box and Thomas nodded, turning on his heels to lead the two of you back towards the lab. “Well, let’s get through it quickly, then. I want to have my lunch on time today.”

  
~*~*~*~  
  


It had been a long day at work by the time you left. Early morning to late evening. Good thing tomorrow was your day off. Left you a night to relax and do as you pleased. Maybe you’d go out drinking or something. This case, rumors of “Joker” or whoever this guy would end up be just seemed to weigh down on your shoulders more and more. Surely he didn’t exist. It was probably just some weird copycat and everyone was just so convinced, but you couldn’t see it.

 

Sighing, you decided that heading home and going out to a few bars, getting drunk and calling an uber home, might just be the best plan for you. And that’s just what you did. Dressing in your best party dress and heels with your purse properly equipped with pepper spray, who knows who you might find out there, you made your way down the streets, block after block to the first of many bars. 

 

The first two bars you were sober, buzzed on the verge of drunkeness after leaving the third, but everything sort of blurred from the uneventful minutes spent sitting and drinking in silence. Just a few tired workers from the docks and such drinking after work. It wasn’t until you came across another fancy looking nightclub that you began to really enjoy yourself. In bright neon lights, displayed ever so brightly, were the words “Mooney’s Club.” It caught your eyes, so you entered.

 

However, you didn’t expect to see one of the mob bosses of Gotham. You knew him from newspapers, gossip at the station, and infamy. There he was, sitting and smoking a cigar in the corner with some of his men: Falcone. You almost left, but something inside of you thought that you ought to stay, that there was surely something better here for you, if not good drinks.

 

Slowly, you moved towards the bar, taking a seat and ordering a martini. Somehow even the sound of Falcone’s laughter shocked you, and you flinched, surprised at how warm he seemed. Like he was just the neighborhood’s best friend and grandfather. The bartender gave you your drink and you turned to look at him again, just to make sure. And it was. However, your lingering gaze didn’t go unnoticed. Much to your horror, you locked eyes with one of his goons, and, watching in silent terror, you watched as he leaned over to whisper in Falcone’s ear. And then Falcone’s eyes were on you. You smiled, hoping he might smile back and return to his conversation. However, he did quite the opposite. He motioned for you to come closer.

 

Your better senses perhaps numbed a little bit by some of your drinks earlier, you decided to head over. What could go wrong? Carrying your drink with one trembling hand, the other gripping the material of your dress down by your side, you made your way over.

 

“Watching me, eh? Maroni send you to spy on me an’ my boys?” His question was blunt, and brief, something that seemed to fit his character. And you found that his voice, much like his charismatic appearance, carried a gruff, familiar feel to it. Probably from all those cigars.

 

“M-maroni? Heavens no, I don’t work for any mob.” You giggled a little bit, unable to help it with your nerves. He grinned, seeming somewhat unconvinced, but it soothed your nerves a little bit.

 

“And how can I be sure of that, sweetheart? Not spying on us? Or were you just staring for another reason?” There was a hint of suggestiveness to his tone, and you almost choked on your own breath.

 

“No, not spying. I was just. . .surprised. I didn’t expect to walk into a random club and find you. I mean, I know Gotham is dangerous, but I never expected to just see a mob boss out and about like anybody else.”

 

“Mob boss? Please, I’m a businessman. Hardly a mob. Well, in any case, yes. Mooney’s is where we go for a good time. That or Penguin’s joint. But Penguin’s is where you’ll find some of the real criminals.” You looked almost puzzled. You’ve never heard of a “Penguin” guy before.

 

“Penguin? Who’s that?” 

 

“Funny little fellow named Oswald Cobblepot. Used to work for me,” another voice spoke up. It was womanly, coming from behind you. You began to turn to look, but before you could, she was already there at your side, wrapping an arm around your shoulders in a sort of motherly manner. “And who might you be?”

 

You smiled and gave her your name to her, looking over her slim features.

 

“Really? That transfer? Such a shame they sent you here. In any case, my name’s Fish Mooney. I run this place. And since you work on the force, don’t go causing any trouble for my clients, got it?” Mooney’s grip tightened somewhat painfully on your shoulder, causing you to wince.

 

“You got it. I was just going to stay for a drink or two then leave. This will all be pretty blurry by tomorrow morning, I’m sure.” Fish chuckled softly, loosening her grip and brushing some of your hair back into its place. 

 

“Well, in that case, let me buy you another drink. I’ve got just the thing for you, darling.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I'm back in school and just had a really rough few months between the last chapter and this one. However, I think I'm finally back to writing! I'm gonna reread everything I wrote, but I have a pretty good idea going for how I want to write this.
> 
> Also, even though I am using some of the Gotham characters to add a little more spice, I'm still following more of the general layouts for characters looks/voices/personalities from the Arkham games! (Also, did you hear there's another game coming out for the Arkham series?)


	4. Chapter 4

You woke up, your head pounding and your vision blurry. You could hardly even remember what happened last night. You went to a couple bars, then somewhere else. It hurt to think about it. Groaning, you finally took the chance to focus in on your surroundings. You definitely weren’t home. You could tell by the silky sheets covering your body, and, your heart pounding, you ripped them off to find. . .you were still dressed. Oh thank god. 

Suddenly, you heard a pair of high heels clicking against the, what you figured to be, expensive wooden floor, and your eyes followed the sound as none other than Fish herself walked into the room.

“You’re finally awake. I was starting to think you drank yourself into a coma.” She was dressed elegantly, even at this time of day. What time was it anyway? You could see sunlight coming in through the shades on the window, but you weren’t quite sure.

“What time is it?” Your mouth was dry: a bad case of cottonmouth. You desperately needed something to drink. She laughed a little bit, carrying over a glass of water, as if she expected you to be so thirsty once you woke up. 

“Oh, just a tad past 11 AM.” She smiled at you, but the smile didn’t seem to really reach her eyes. 

“Oh. I’m so sorry. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can.” You got up, hurrying to straighten your dress and smooth your hair to look somewhat presentable, spotting your phone on the little bedside table and reaching for it with a relieved smile. “Just, uh, is there a cab company I can call?”

“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart. I had one of my men drive your car here. It’s waiting outside for you.” You turned to straighten the sheets on the bed, doing your best to make it look presentable before you turned back towards her. She was merely watching you with a calculated air, as if judging just who you were and what you were like. She seemed to jump a little before she added on a little more to what she was saying. “After all, I would quite say it’s my own fault. I thought you could handle that type of drink better than you did.”

“Oh, it’s alright. I hardly remember last night. Just having a drink and sitting to chat with Falcone a little bit before everything kinda gets fuzzy. I’m sure I’ll recover just fine.” You began to walk to her, as if to hug her, but you stopped short, giving a small smile. “Again, thank you. I’ll be on my way now.”

“Be careful, will you? There’s things far past your control that are beginning to stir in Gotham’s underworld.” You seemed a bit puzzled by her words, but you merely nodded, promising her that you would before you left the room. Outside the room, the hallway looked just as elegant as the bed you were just laying in. Fish Mooney obviously had some money in Gotham. However, you didn’t leave yourself much room to stop and admire, simply wanting to leave, perhaps stop by some diner and grab a nice bite to eat to fill your stomach and hopefully dull the throbbing in your head. Yeah, that seems like a good idea.

Going with your gut you quickly found yourself at the main door, a pair of men standing there, guarding the doors. They looked just as professional as Fish, dressed in suits with stern looks on their faces. However, as they saw you, they immediately moved to open the door for you. 

“Oh! Uh, thank you.” You flashed a smile and moved out the door, looking out onto the grounds as you did, trying to spot your car. Luckily, it was practically right there, waiting for you to leave, and you made your way to it. You caught your reflection briefly in the window before you opened the door to get in, catching that you still had a small case of bedhead, but you looked relatively fine otherwise. So you got in and buckled into your seat and went on your way out of Mooney’s driveway. 

Once you were out on the road, you noticed that you were in a part of Gotham you were hardly in. The part of town where most rich people lived, including Bruce Wayne, the billionaire and Gotham’s most seeked bachelor. Which made sense. He was handsome and he was also rich. Who wouldn’t want to marry him? You almost seemed to wonder if you were going to see his home, but you figured that Fish probably didn’t live in quite the same area as he did.

You spent a few minutes driving around, trying your best to find your way onto the right path to get back to the city from this isolated part of Gotham’s reaches, but it wasn’t too easy given all the turns and roads that merely ended with wrought iron gates, fencing the divide between road and driveway. Not to mention, the wealthy of Gotham tended to like their privacy, so trees felt like they were everywhere. 

However, you were finally able to find your way back, after wasting at least half an hour, though. Good thing you didn’t have to go into work today, or else you felt like you might actually quit. At least you could take the day to try and remember what you spent the night talking to Falcone about and taking care of your current migraine. You really should go eat somewhere to get something in your body. And coffee. Coffee sounds great right now.

You casted a glance at the current street you were on, deciding on which diner you thought was currently closest to you, and made your way there. It was pretty fast considering there wasn’t much traffic on the weekend mornings. And parking you made your way in: a small place called Roscoe’s. As soon as you walked in, you were greeted by a woman with a large smile and one of those cute old-timey diner outfits on. 

“Good morning! Just let me know you’re reading to order, hun.” You dipped your head a bit in greeting, sitting down at the counter. You reached over, grabbing a menu from a stack sitting nearby and looked through the menu. Meanwhile, the waitress walked over, sliding you a mug and holding up a pot of hot coffee, lifting an eyebrow in an unspoken question.

“Yes please. I could definitely need a cup or two this morning.” She poured you a full cup and slid over a tiny bowl filled with creamer and sugar for you to use. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem.” You watched her as she left to take care of another customer before you looked back towards the menu. What were you always told was good for hangovers? Something greasy and carbs. . .hmm. You finally decided on taking one of their deals for endless pancakes and two sides for only about 10 bucks. You set down the menu, and almost like clockwork the waitress came back again, whisking out her little notepad. “You ready to order?”

“Yeah. Can I get your endless pancake platter? I’d love to have a side of bacon and hashbrowns with it if you could.” She wrote it all down. There seemed to be no issue with that at all. “That’ll be it, thank you.”

“No problem. Should have your order out in just a couple minutes.” She smiled your way again before turning around, sliding the ticket through the little order window so the cook could take a glance at what you ordered. Meanwhile, you set to work preparing your coffee. You took a tiny sip to determine just how much creamer and sugar you were going to need. At least this coffee was better than what you could get at the station. You added in creamer and sugar, tasting as you went, before you were satisfied. 

If you were being honest with yourself, this was a fairly relaxing moment, and spending it in a quiet little diner with soft music playing in the background, accompanied by the sounds of cooking from the kitchen and the soft hum of conversations throughout the establishment, it felt like a little slice of heaven.

Of course that slice of heaven wouldn’t last. Just as your plate was set down in front of you, you heard the doors slam open, a man looking very out of breath standing there. He looked panicked like something was wrong. Of course it only took a second for you to hear what he was here to announce.

“Joker’s back. He’s down two blocks robbing the bank. I’d hide if I were you.”

The previously relaxed mood in the diner quickly turned into one of panic as the waitress began ushering people into the back. Meanwhile, you looked mournfully at your food before you got up. You grabbed two slices of bacon and one of your pancakes, walking out the door while you quickly scarfed down the food in your hands. You wanted to see who this “Joker” guy really was.

“Surely it’s just some guy dressed up like him causing a little mischief. If robbing a bank could even be considered a little bit of mischief.” However, you were quick to swallow your own words as soon as you were able to see the absolute state of the bank. There were at least three armoured vehicles all parked outside, all of them covered in graffiti ranging from a wide grin to lots of “HAHAHA’s” splattered across them. And the bank itself was blown wide open. Quite literally. There was a huge hole in the wall of the building, and, taking a closer look, you could see an array of wires. Probably some sort of controlled explosion to destroy the wall. 

You kept getting closer, if not speeding up a little bit. While you were eager to see just who was behind this, you also knew that, even as someone who worked in forensics, you were at least trained in basic combat and protocol to somewhat know how to handle this until backup arrived. Surely someone had called the cops, so all you had to do was get there and wait, right?

Soon enough, you were standing right outside, standing a few feet away from one of the armoured vehicles, a large painted grin sneering menacingly at you from the side facing you. Meanwhile, that’s when you saw him. Of course you heard him first, but it was almost like seeing a legend. After all, this Joker was only ever a stupid myth to you until you saw him strutting out of the bank, absolutely gleeful.

He was cackling, and he was holding a pistol. Blood was splattered across his pale face. Geez, it really was white! And he seemed so tall and thin with his green locks in a wild, somewhat sculpted look on top of his head. He seemed to catch your own eyes with his, and his wide grin seemed to widen at the look of absolute shock on your face.

“Take a picture babydoll! It’ll last longer!” He seemed to pose for you, spreading out his arms before he cackled, doubling over with laughter before he made his way into one of his vehicles. It wasn’t long until they were leaving, and you were just standing there, absolutely stunned.

What had just happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a long delay! I've been doing so much stuff and it just feels like this kept slipping away from me. Anyway, this chapter is a bit shorter than I would like, but hey I kept up on my promise! The Joker is finally back in Gotham. I hope my next chapter can be ready to post in another week or two. Hopefully winter break gives me plenty of time to catch up and to take time to write and relax.
> 
> I still hope you guys enjoyed the update, though


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting my life together rn, so hopefully I can start pumping out new chapters weekly. 
> 
> Also! I got accepted to my dream college! And was even invited to attend their honors courses, which I did also apply to be in, so hopefully I'll get accepted into them, lol. And if I do get accepted, I also got offered their highest scholarship available for honors courses! Which means that I can get 10k every year I attend the honors courses/college they have.

After the incident, Gotham PD’s phone lines were constantly busy with call after call. People were calling in asking about what happened, about if they should move, what they should do, really. Not to mention, the press was now breathing down Gordon’s neck, eagerly awaiting any reply about The Joker’s apparent reprisal. 

Also after the incident, you went into work. Sure, you may have still been managing a hangover, and yes you were supposed to be off, but after everything that happened, Gordon decided that he needed all hands on deck. At least for a few hours until things calm down. And hell, were things crazy. Honestly, you don’t think you’ve seen so many people at work at the same time. Granted you were usually holed up in your lab, but still. 

 

“This guy really have them spooked this bad?” 

 

“Well of course. The Joker is no laughing matter.” You jumped a little, startled by the sudden voice behind you. It was deep, kind of rough, you had a guess for who it was.

 

“So you’re here to help, huh?” You turned to look at the masked crusader, looking up at his rather unamused face. But he gave a small grin, moving past you.

 

“The Joker is one of Gotham’s villains that I’ve been facing since I first took up my title as Batman. I’ve put him away time and time again in Arkham Asylum, of course he’s escaped several times too, a couple times due to Dr. Quinzel. Of course you probably know her as Harley Quinn.” He looked back at you, waiting for you to follow him. You let out a small sigh and kept following him across the bullpen.

 

“I can’t say that I do. You forget that I only moved here a little while ago. A lot of these ‘villains’ just sound like a bunch of myths if you ask me. Of course, I do know about Penguin and his men and how he runs his little market dealing arms. His thugs that like to run around causing trouble too, plus the odd trouble that Falcone’s men get into-” You cut yourself off. You were rambling. About stuff Batman probably already knew anyway.

 

“I’m well aware. And I know that both of them cause your precinct trouble. But I’d recommend you start asking around about the villains Gotham has seen. If not, perhaps I could convince Gordon to let you visit Arkham Asylum to see just what nefarious criminals are already locked up there.” 

 

“No thanks. I mean, sure it’d be interesting, but I don’t need you helping me out. Besides, I’m needed here, not out taking some vacation to some stupid asylum.” 

 

The two of you stopped outside of Gordon’s office. You could see his form through the clouded glass, waving his arms dramatically, standing up and pacing. And from what you could hear of his muffled voice, you could tell he was pissed. 

 

“Well is that all? I probably have some work I need to get to.” Batman looked down at you as you asked, grinning a bit.  _ God, was this guy a creep.  _

 

“You can get back to your lab. I’ll be down there shortly to collect some of my own samples.” You waved your hand absently in his direction and left.

 

“Alright, we’ll have some stuff ready for you to take. But it might be a while for all the evidence to come in anyway.”

 

“That’s fine. I can wait.” His voice was faded among the sea of cops. You weaved through the crowd, trying not to bump into anyone. Only a few more feet until you were out of it and on your way to the lab. You could hear snippets of conversation, all overlapping. It was going to drive you nuts. You felt like you were suffocating just making your way through all this! But finally, much to your relief, you were free and well on your way to your lab.

 

When you arrived, there was a lot of evidence already stacked up with notes attached to them, descriptions written on their labels, all things that Thomas usually had a dent in by the time you were back to work. He worked weekends and had his Mondays and Tuesdays off so one of you could always be present. So it was surprising that he wasn’t already here. Ah well. Maybe he called in sick or just wasn’t scheduled til later anyway. He did live on the other side of town, and all this chaos could be giving him some traffic issues. 

 

Your eyes wandered towards another stack of evidence, separate from everything else. You approached the items, eyes scanning quickly over the tags. Most of them were connected with the Joker in some way or another. While you may not really know much about him, you were already getting grumpy. All this extra work for one guy. Then again, you had to think that The Joker wasn’t really like most criminals. Really, he was the first big criminal you’ve seen so far while living here. But if this was what your workload was going to be like everytime some big criminal had to show their face, then you didn’t want them anywhere near Gotham. 

 

You decided to start working on The Joker’s evidence first. After all, you knew that Gordon would probably get onto you about not prioritizing properly. And getting yelled at by your boss was not what you wanted today. 

 

Not even 10 minutes into your work, you heard heavy boots walking across the tiles. You turned a little bit, looking towards Batman, but you turned back just as soon as you saw him.

 

“Anything unusual they picked up?” You shrugged your shoulders.

 

“No, not really. I mean, they picked up a few things that need to be sent off to different departments for analysis. Some bullets that I really don’t have to deal with. Pictures of the crime scene. All I’m interested in are the blood samples and other things they brought me that actually have DNA that needs to be examined. As well as anything Dr. Thompkins can get me from the dead bodies we brought back.” Batman moved closer, taking a seat next to you to look over you as you worked. He was quiet, didn't really say much. But you couldn’t help but get the feeling that he was judging how you were doing your job. “Is there something I can help you with?”

 

“Nothing, I’m just thinking. Looking over what you have here. I’m probably going to go revisit the crime scene and work it myself.” 

 

“Well hey, knock yourself out. I’m not your mom, so it doesn’t really matter to me. Honestly, if it’s going to help get this all cleared up faster, I’m all for it.” You looked over towards him once more. He had a grimace, and he looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he just sighed and got up. 

 

“I’ll be back later to pick up any samples you have so I can do my own work on them.” You nodded your head a little bit, and with that he left your lab. And now it was time to dig your heels in and get things done.

 

~*~*~*~

 

How much time had passed? You looked towards the clock. It had been about two hours since Batman left, and you had everything processed that you could handle. Their were several piles set up on the counters after you were done. Of course you had the Joker section. Things that needed to be sent off to other labs, and such, and then you had the section with just the regular crimes. Every now and then while you were working you had a cop come down to ask about any updates. You were happy to say you were done. 

 

Now all you had to do was get the Autopsy details from Dr. Thompkins. But until then, you decided that a break wouldn’t kill you. In fact, Thomas still hadn’t shown up. Where was he? You decided to get your phone out, quickly opening your messages to find his name. 

 

_ YOU: _

_ Hey, where are you? Did no one call you in early today? _

 

You waited for a response, and, much to your delight, there was one almost immediately. 

 

_ THOMAS: _

_ No, I called off today. Have things been crazy? _

 

_ YOU: _

_ Yeah, the phone lines are ringing non-stop here. I mean, things have calmed down since I first got here, but still. I just finished up all my work, anyway, so I was going to go grab something to eat. Maybe see what people are saying out there. _

 

_ THOMAS: _

_ How about I join you? Wanna meet up at that diner two blocks down from the station? I’m close anyway. _

 

_ YOU: _

_ Sure. See you there in 15 minutes? _

 

_ THOMAS: _

_ See you then :) _

 

With that you set down your phone. You guessed that you should probably let someone know you were heading out. You didn’t really feel like bothering Gordon with it, though, so you decided to write a note.  _ I’ll just let Lee know I’m heading out.  _ You kept the note short and simple, and taped it to the front of the door as you left, shutting off the lights and closing it behind you, before you made your way towards the morgue. Leslie, or Lee as everyone called her, was a nice woman. She certainly knew what she was doing, and she always seemed so caring and motherly. 

 

“Hey Lee!” You popped your head in, seeing her currently poking around in one of the open chests of one of the victims from earlier today. 

 

“Hello [y/n]. How are you?” 

 

“I’m doing good. I just wanted to check in real quick before I head out to grab something to eat. After all, at least one person needs to know where I went.” She nodded a little bit, pulling her hands away from the body. She set down the tools she was holding onto and started examining the outer skin.

 

“Well if anyone starts asking for you, I’ll let them know. Go enjoy some food.” She flashed you a bright smile, and you gave her one back. And then it was out the door for you.

 

The walk there wasn’t too bad. Two blocks felt like nothing. And while the roads were busy, the streets weren’t at all bad. By the time you arrived, you looked around. The place was relatively busy, but most of the business was of people watching the TV the diner had. No one even turned to look at you as you entered. So you took a look around for Thomas. Much to your relief, he was already there, sitting at a booth in the corner with two waters, one of which he was sipping on.

 

“Hey, Thomas.” You greeted him as you approached the table, sliding into the booth across from him. He flashed you a smile in return.

 

“Hey. How are things at the station? I also went ahead and ordered you a water, so go ahead and drink up.” He tipped his head towards the glass, and you grabbed it, sliding it closer to yourself.

 

“Thanks. And things are alright. There was a lot to do, but not much was stuff I actually had to look over. A lot of evidence that was brought in from The Joker’s big stunt just needed to be sent off to other places to get analyzed, you know?” He nodded a bit in understanding as you finally took a drink of your water.

 

“I could figure. I called off before any of this stuff happened, really.”

 

“Why did you call off anyway? I mean, you don’t look sick.” He seemed a little bit nervous as you asked, but he merely offered a shrug in return.

 

“Well, I had something come up today with family. Don’t worry about it, though, it’s all handled now.” You eyed him skeptically. Something definitely seemed to be up, but maybe it was just something with one of his family members.

 

“Sorry to hear. But I’m glad it’s all handled now.” Just then, a young girl, looking about seventeen, rushed towards your table. She seemed flustered.

 

“Sorry! I didn’t even notice you two come in!” Her tone was embarrassed and worried. She fumbled around in the pockets of her little apron for a moment before she pulled out a notepad and a pen. “So, uh, what can I get both of you?”

 

“I’ll just have a salad, if that’s alright.” Thomas had ordered first, and the girl scribbled down his order before she looked towards you expectantly.

 

“Well, I’ll get a cheeseburger with some fries, please.” She wrote down the orders before leaving. You two were regulars here, so it really wasn’t too hard to decide. But once she was gone, you turned your attention back to Thomas. What was up with him?

 

You two continued to chatter, your food was brought out, your glass of water was refilled once you had finished it, and you two ate in peace, talking idly about how things were at the station, about what had happened, and about the workload the two of you were going to need to expect in the next few days until this was all sorted.

 

“Well, thanks for having a bite to eat with me.” You smiled and looked at the receipt the girl had placed on your table a few moments before. You reached into your wallet, pulling out the money to cover your food and to add the tips. Meanwhile, Thomas did the same, including the drinks in his own amount.

 

“No problem. I’ll walk back to the station with you, alright?” You nodded a bit, yawning. Now that you were full, and after all the work you had done earlier, you felt a little groggy. But you stood all the same, finishing off your water before you headed towards the door, Thomas hot on your heels. 

 

Just as you took your first few steps out the door, you felt yourself becoming dizzy. You stumbled a bit and Thomas put out a hand to steady you.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“Yeah, I guess I just stood up a little too quickly.” You gave him a reassuring smile before you began to move on. A few more steps, and you felt yourself falling while the pavement rushed towards you. You could’ve sworn you heard Thomas right before you went out.

 

**“I’m sorry.”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look forward to an update next Sunday!
> 
> And if there are any villains you really wanna see in this story, let me know! I'd be happy to do some research and involve them.


	6. Chapter 6

Once you woke up, you were groggy. You hardly recognized any of your surroundings, and you couldn’t quite remember anything that had happened before you fell asleep.  _ C’mon, think!  _ You tried to remember, but the harder you tried to remember anything past getting drunk with Mooney and Falcone, you would get a head-splitting headache. You decided you would let it be until later. 

 

Becoming slowly more and more aware, you began to really process the situation you were in. You were sitting in a comfy chair of sorts. It was made out of leather and old wood, that you could tell by how it felt. And you were tied down into it with metal straps, with a little bit of plush leather on the insides, locked into place with small locks. They looked like they were the kind to actually need keys, too, so there was no way you could manage to watch for or try any combinations.

 

The room itself was really dark, the only source of lighting coming from a small barred window on the door, which seemed to lead out into a hallway. There was a light in the room, but it wasn’t on. And other than you and the chair, the only other thing was a drain beneath of you.  _ Where the fuck am I?  _

 

Thankfully, that would soon be answered for you. The door opened and a larger stream of light spilled into the room, illuminating your form and reflecting off to reveal more details in the floor and walls surrounding you.

 

“You’re awake, good. Now we can start.” You didn’t care for the way he said that. Was he going to torture you? What were you doing here anyway? You didn’t think you were involved with anything. Hell, you hardly went anywhere except work and home, shopping and eating out every now and then, but that was all. 

 

“What is this about? I swear it wasn’t me. I don’t even do anything but work, sleep, and eat!” Of course, it didn’t quite come out that way. It was slurred and poorly put together, but you hardly cared. “Is this about me having a drink with Falcone? I swear I’m not involved in anything he does.” The mysterious guy let out a dark chuckle. You couldn’t see anything past his dark silhouette other than that his clothes were dark and his mask was some lighter color. 

 

“Falcone, eh? The boss would love to know about that. But no, nothing like that. We just need to do a little damage control, yeah?” Just then, your muffled senses picked up on the noise of something scraping across the floor outside of your room. Somewhere in the hallway, and it was getting closer. “For now, how about you talk with your friend, huh?” 

 

That’s when you saw him: Thomas. What was he doing here? Was he involved? Did something happen?

 

“Thomas? What the hell are you doing here. Did something happen to you?” There was no response and the second man roughly placed him down across from you. Thomas’ head was hung low, and his hair was unkempt. Was that blood on his shirt. “Thomas! Answer me! What happened?” 

 

“You heard the lady.” The second man reached towards Thomas’ hair and gripped it tightly, practically jerking his head up fast enough to give him whiplash so you could look at him. His face was beat up and bloody. He was sporting a split lip and his eye was closed and puffy, a dark bruise already settling in around it.  _ Oh god, what did they do to you?  _ “Go on, greet her. Tell her what’s going on.”

 

Thomas looked up at you feebly before his eyes looked away with an ounce of regret. He let out a heavy sigh before looking back towards you. Other than a nasty scrape across your cheek, which you couldn’t quite remember getting, you were practically untouched.

 

“I’m in over my head. And, god, this is all my fault. You shouldn’t even be here! I did this to you, oh god. . .” Thomas let out a small hiccup of a sob before the man let his head go, letting it lean down with a scoff. 

 

“How worthless. Anyway, the boss will be here in a moment to see what you know. So stay here.” He left out a soft chuckle before adding on, “Not that you really have a choice.” He left the room, along with the first guy who had opened the door, and you and Thomas were left in the dark together.

 

“Thomas, please, tell me what’s going on.” You looked at him, brow furrowed, but all he did was shake his head solemnly. Maybe it was best not to push him on this subject. However, you did chew on your lip.  _ Who’s this boss guy that they were talking about? They didn’t seem to know about me having drinks with Falcone. . . _

 

It didn’t take much longer for your question to be answered. Just then, the lights flickered on in the room and the door opened to reveal the person you were least expecting to see. Or, perhaps he should have been more expected. 

 

There before you stood who you assumed to be The Joker. 

 

“Joker?”

 

“My, my. What a confused tone. Don’t remember seeing me this morning?” Your head hurt a little bit as you tried to think about it, but yes. . .you remembered something like it. It was really blurry, but it was there, slowly coming back to you.

 

“I don’t remember much about anything past last night and getting drunk at Mooney’s club.” He didn’t seem to react much, just flashing a wide grin towards you. His features were sharp and angular, almost like his skin was stretched taut across his bones. And of course his lips, and a bit more, were painted into a large red grin.

“Well, what a shame! I was hoping that my little treat for you wouldn’t have quite that affect. But ah well! Your memories will fill in soon enough. For now how about I catch you up, hmm?” The Joker approached Thomas, a dark chuckle slipping past his lips. “You see, I knew that I’d need to hinder your progress up at the station. I mean, you’ve been doing a lovely job keeping Batsy out of everything! I was expecting to keep  _ this _ one out of it,” Joker’s grin turned momentarily into a scowl as he kicked Thomas’ chair over, sufficiently knocking him over before he turned back to you with a sickly sweet grin. “I needed some security after my stunt today. However, they called  _ you  _ in.” His voice returned to a low growl, dripping with hatred.

You shifted in your chair a little bit, unable to keep your eyes on the sharp green one of The Joker’s. Instead, you watched Thomas squirm and groan, tired and beaten up.

 

“So Thomas called off because of you? And then. . .how did I get here?” 

 

“Oh good, you’re not stupid!” He let out a laugh, one that kind of made you think of a personified hyena, before he got close to you, roughly gripping your chin with his gloved hand.  _ God, is that blood?  _ “You see, once I had Thomas, I knew that it was only a matter of twisting him against you. So I did what anyone would do! I killed his parents and used them to make him do what I want! Just like a good little puppet.” He laughed again, almost like he was unable to control the little fit of giggles. Meanwhile, you noticed that Thomas was kicking wildly. “Oh. . .did we not tell you?”

 

“You killed them!?” Thomas’ voice was full of outrage, but it trembled with fear as well. Looking at his face, you had never seen one filled with so much emotion. It was feral. And it scared you just a little bit to be looking at it.

 

“Oh, boo-hoo, mommy and daddy are dead.” The Joker scoffed a little, walking over to give Thomas a heavy kick to his stomach with a cheerful chuckle, finishing off his little punishment by giving a full kick to the bottom of Thomas’ chin. His head flew back so hard, and you could hear an audible crack. Your eyes widened and you realized that The Joker had just kicked Thomas’ neck in half, more than likely severing his spinal column. Which meant. . .

 

Seeing Thomas’ body slowly falling limp, less tense, confirmed your suspicions. While you didn’t begin sobbing to any degree, you were frankly in shock, and hot tears began to fill your eyes before rolling down your cheeks. 

 

“You. . .he’s dead.”

 

“Good for him. At least he’ll meet his parents, right?” Joker turned you with an optimistic grin, once more approaching you. This time he leaned down a little bit, crouching to stand at your height which was, somewhat relaxing? Better than having him towering over you. After all, he was quite tall. “Now, may I continue with my story?”

 

“I suppose I have no choice?”

 

“ _ Precisely _ . Now, where was I? Ah, yes, his poor dead parents. Anyway, I only told my men to kidnap him, told him his parents were locked up. Then I gave him  _ this  _ to use. Something to bring you in once I learned that they called you. We dropped him off close to the station, then he went ahead and drugged you. Don’t worry, though. GHB isn’t exactly my style.” He looked at you, almost challenging you to reply. A ghost of a laugh played across his features before he stood tall again.

 

“So why do you need me? I mean, Gordon is just going to hand everything over to Batman anyway.”

 

“Yes, and little batsy wouldn’t be able to help himself. He can’t miss a chance to save the damsel in distress.” He took a few long strides towards the door, rapping his knuckles across it before he turned back to you. “However, that’s precisely what I want. A good old reunion! I’ll have to pull out the scrapbook!” He lets out another cackle, laughing at his own poorly put together joke before the door opens. 

 

One of his henchmen steps through, handing him a small box before ducking out of the room again.  _ What’s in there?  _ It didn’t take you long to figure it out. The Joker opened the box, pulling out a small vial before walking over to place the box down on your lap. Still laying open, you could look down into it. 

 

This was what you probably imagined some serial killer’s toolbox to look like. Inside were plenty of old rusted tools. Of course some of the stains didn’t quite look like rust. Not to mention that there were also a few teeth laying in the very bottom, just barely peeking out at you.  _ Did he pull those out? And out of whose head?  _ The Joker cast you a glance before his hand reaching towards you, dipping down into the box to pull out a dirty rag. It looked like it hadn’t been washed like, ever. And it was scattered with mysterious stains. 

 

Once he uncapped the bottle and poured a generous portion onto the rag, you could already guess what he was planning to do. So you did what anyone would do. You started struggling. You rocked your chair violently, trying to scoot away from him. It wasn’t doing much good, and before you knew it, The Joker had slammed your chair against the ground, crouched over you like a predator that had just caught its prey.

 

Meanwhile, his hand dragged the dirty, soaked rag up to your face, pressing it against your face to cover your mouth and nose. He looked wild above you. His hair, which was smoothed back and neat, was now disheveled. And his green eyes just barely caught the reflection of the light, making them almost appear to glow. But the thing that unnerved you the most was that his mouth was spread into an open grin, cackling laughter resounding throughout the room as you struggled.

 

You tried to hold your breath but it did no good. You kept trying to turn away, but his grip was firm, and you had no choice but to inhale the strange vapors. The scent made your nostrils burn and your eyes water. And you felt very lightheaded. And then you fell into darkness, The Joker’s laugh echoing in your mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! 
> 
> Sunday was busy since I was working at the kid's wrestling tournament that our school was hosting. Anyway, I got home and took a nap and didn't really have enough motivation to finish it all until today.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

When you woke up once more, you found yourself in a different room from the last. Your head hurt again, most likely just a side effect of whatever The Joker used to knock you out, but at least this time you could still remember what all happened. As memories of The Joker killing Thomas arose, you decided that maybe remembering wasn’t a good thing. In any case, you should probably try to figure out where you are.

 

This new room you were in had a bed, which you were currently laying on, and a desk pushed against the wall on the opposite side of the room than you were on. There was also a small metal sink attached to the wall with a rather dirty mirror hanging above it. The door was kind of similar to the one in the first room, with one barred window showing a view of the outside. And at least this time the light was on. You weren’t too fond of just hanging out in the dark.

 

Slowly, you let yourself roll out of bed. You stood up, taking a few strides towards the door to see if you could see anyone outside guarding it. You couldn’t. Which either meant that The Joker was confident you wouldn’t be able to escape, or that the guards were switching shifts. Either way, you decided to shout out to see if anyone would respond.

 

“Hey! Someone!” You felt kind of silly yelling for one of The Joker’s henchmen, but you decided you’d rather have someone to talk to than to just sit in this small room. You kept your hands wrapped around the bars on the little square window, pressing your head to the door on either side to try and peek down the hallway. You were about to decide that no one probably heard you before you heard another door, possibly somewhere at the end of this hallway or another room, close. 

 

“Hey! Come here, please,” you called out. There was an audible sigh from whoever was out there before you could hear footsteps begin to approach your room.

 

“What do you want, lady?” It was then that you saw him come into view. He was dressed in something surprisingly casual, but it was the mask that really drew your attention. It was a rather expressive clown mask, painted white with splashes of color spread across the lips, on the cheeks, and around the eyes. His mask looked just as angry as he sounded. 

 

“Look, Grumpy. I- Where am I?” He scoffed a little bit as you asked, standing in front of your door and crossing his arms. He looked taller than you, and kinda buff, and you admitted that it was intimidated. After all, surely The Joker’s henchmen were just as capable as dealing out unfair punishments as their boss. 

 

“Why do you care?”

 

“Look, I just want to know where we are in general. I don’t care about location. Just- a warehouse? Some sort of safehouse for The Joker?” He seemed to mull it over in his mind before letting out a soft sigh. He shook his head, but didn’t seem too terribly bothered.

 

“You’re in one of The Joker’s warehouses,” he told you gruffly. You leaned your head against the door, sighing.

 

“Alright. Well, what about food? Or the bathroom? I mean, there’s not a toilet in here.” That much was true. And if you were being honest, you haven’t really eaten anything for a day, so you were starving.

 

“I’m sure I can ask The Joker about giving you something to eat. As for the bathroom. . .well, if you want to, I can take you now.” You were a little perplexed by his answer. If you were being honest, you were expecting him to merely scoff and tell you that you could starve and piss yourself for all he cares.

 

“Yeah, if you would.” You stepped away from the door, giving him room to open it up. He reached down, the sound of keys jangling heard as he fumbled to pull his keys from his pocket.  _ Maybe if I could get them.  _ You looked at the handle of the door on your end, but there wasn’t a keyhole.  _ Okay, scratch that. _

The henchman unlocked the door and swung it open, pulling out a rather sharp looking knife and pointing it towards you. 

 

“Any funny business and you’ll regret it, alright?” He motioned for you to walk out of the room, so you did. It was the first look you got of more of this warehouse. And as you walked out, you felt the henchman’s heavy hand fall on your arm, gripping it tightly to keep a hold of you. “Now, it’s just through this door and up the stairs, so behave.”

 

“Where was the room The Joker had me in before?” You look towards him briefly before letting your eyes roam the hallway. It was pretty bare, mostly concrete with some lights every now and then and some closed doors. The man behind you motioned behind the two of you.

 

“It’s down there into another hallway. I’m sure you’ll be back in one of those rooms down there tonight anyway.” You nodded a little bit, but you didn’t really like the sound of it. You assumed that ‘those rooms’ probably meant that they were rooms where torture and stuff usually happened. After all, why else would there be a drain in the room you were in?

 

“And so what can I call you? So that way I don’t just have to yell for you.”

 

“That’s not important, so shut up.”

 

“Fine, I’ll just call you Grumpy. Matches your mask and your personality.” His grip tightened painfully on your arm, and you winced. That was probably going to leave some bruises.  _ Grumpy. It fits him.  _

 

~*~*~*~

 

You were back in your room. The trip to the bathroom was relatively uneventful. Once you were through the door to the stairwell, you went up one floor with Grumpy, and then through a door just a short way from the stairs. The bathroom was bare, containing only a cold metal sink and toilet attached to the walls with, once more, a grimy mirror. Nothing in there that you could use, so you did your business and that was that. Grumpy brought you back to your room and you’ve been sitting here for, well, you weren’t really sure. It feels like it’s been at least a few hours, but in reality, probably only an hour had passed.

 

You got up from where you were sitting on your bed, approaching the doorway again. Maybe if you could catch his attention again, he could give you something to keep you entertained.

 

“Grumpy!” You held onto the bars, waiting patiently. It took a couple minutes, but soon enough you heard the door open up again, the one that led to the stairwell, and soon enough Grumpy was there, standing in front of you.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“I’m bored. How long has it been since I’ve been to the bathroom?”

 

“Look, I’m not your babysitter.”

 

“Please, Grumpy. Just give me something. A watch, some cards, whatever.” 

 

“Not without the bosses’ approval first.” You let out a low groan. 

 

“Fine, but at least let me know how long it’s been. And do you know if I’m getting food yet?” Grumpy shook his head, but he still lifted his arm, pulling his sleeve back a bit to expose his watch.

 

“It’s been about an hour and fifteen minutes since you went to the bathroom. And I did talk to the boss about your food. He said you’ll have something around 4 PM. Which, if you just relax, is only about two hours from now.” You weren’t really happy with that answer, but you figured that you didn’t really have any wiggle room. You were just taking advantage of how much of a pushover Grumpy seemed to be. However, working with the GCPD did kind of numb you to the terror of criminals, so you also blamed your behavior on your job.

 

“Okay, cool, so can you please just give me something to keep me entertained? Or maybe just sit here and talk to me or something?” He looked at you from behind his mask, seeming to pause for a moment.

 

“No.” And with that, he turned on his heel and went back the way he came. 

 

“Oh come on! Grumpy, don’t be like that!” But you were out of luck. You heard the stairwell door open and close, and with that he was gone.  _ Surely two hours won’t feel too long? _

 

You sighed and moved back to the bed, sitting down as you began to fidget with the bottom hem of your shirt. There really was nothing to do.  _ What’s my luck that I could catch a nap?  _ You figured you wouldn’t know unless you tried. So you laid down, trying to get as comfy as you could. The pillow was practically flat, and the mattress was so thin that you could feel the metal bars beneath you on the bed’s frame. 

 

You moved around for a moment, letting out a frustrated huff.  _ This is impossible.  _ Luckily for you, you heard that familiar sound of the door again. So, you got up and approached the door.  _ Maybe Grumpy brought me something? _

 

It wasn’t who you were expecting, though. For one, the footsteps definitely sounded different. Less heavy. And once you saw him, you shrunk away from the door and pushed yourself back to sit on the bed. 

 

“Boo! Did ya miss me?” Joker’s face appeared in the window, his staple grin glued to his face before he unlocked the door, opening it up. He didn’t move inside, however. He just stood there, glaring at you. It was almost odd how he looked. His lips always seemed to be smiling, but his eyes were so cold and angry. “Come on then. I’d hate to have to drag you.”

 

You stood up, moving cautiously towards him. He was wearing his signature suit. Purple suit with a tailcoat and vest, and the yellow shirt beneath it. And not to mention that flower on his jacket. It seemed dead, though. He watched you for a moment before he chuckled, turning on his heel as he began to walk the opposite way of the stairwell. You followed behind him, deciding it’d be best to listen to him. The hallway turned to the left, continuing for a short while before it branched off to the right. The hallway did continue, turning back to the left once more ahead of you. You guessed that it probably led to another stairwell or something. 

 

Once you were back in the hallway that branched off, The Joker unlocked and opened the door to a room. He pushed the door open, his cold gaze turning back to you as he waited for you to enter ahead of him. Trembling, you moved past him into the room. This one was a bit more decorated than the room you were in yesterday. While it did have a chair and a drain near the center of the room, there was also a small table with his little toolbox from yesterday on it. And there was even a set of bars hanging on the wall with what looked to be a pair of handcuffs. You didn’t like where this was probably going.

 

The Joker closed the door behind the both of you, his hand pressing against your back as he pushed you towards the chair. You got the hint and sat down in the chair. You tried to remember if you ever received any training for this.  _ How to survive murdering psychopaths for dummies.  _ You flashed a small, nervous smile at your own joke before The Joker began to strap you into the chair.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

“N-nothing. I was just kind of letting the reality of the situation sink in.” He grinned darkly before he tightly fastened the buckle on your wrist. You winced, letting out a noise of displeasure. But the Clown Prince didn’t seem to mind your discomfort. Instead, he did the other strap just as tight. He placed one foot against your leg, shoving it back so your leg would fit into the metal cuff. Pulling a tiny key out of his vest pocket, he put it in a tiny keyhole on the front of the armrest and twisted it, the cuff latching and securing itself so you couldn’t move your leg. This was repeated with your other ankle, and, satisfied, The Joker took a step back.

“Just now sinking in? Why, you’re slower than I figured. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so worried about you handling the evidence of my case.” You frowned, and he practically sneered back. “Now, tell me what you know.”

 

“About your case? I mean, other than some dude getting murdered over I guess your toxin or whatever there’s not much I know. I mean, these are questions for Gordon, or hell, even Bullock!” He didn’t seem to find your answer satisfying. Perhaps it was your attitude. Either way, you felt the sting of the slap before you even realized it had happened. It was painful, and he clearly didn’t hold back. And the sting did nothing but make your eyes water.

 

“Wrong topic, dollface. I meant about me.” You nearly laughed then and there. A slap like that all because you had talked about the wrong topic?

 

“You slapped me because of that!? God, all I know is that you’re some psychopath or something with homicidal tendencies. And some sort of kingpin. I thought you were like some myth or something until everyone at the station reassured me that you were real.” You furrowed your brow, looking aside. Would your tone earn another slap?

 

“My, you’re feisty.” He suddenly moved forward, his gloved hand reaching out to grip your neck firmly. You could feel him squeezing down on your windpipe, and it hurt. His grin turned down into a scowl, and your eyes snapped to his, terrified. “However, it’d do you well to mind your tone around me. After all, killing you would hardly matter.” And with that, he released you again, letting out a string of giggles at your expression.

 

“Why am I not dead already?” It was a blunt question, and you could see by the way that he cocked his eyebrows that he wasn’t expecting you to be so direct.

 

“Like I said. You’re my bait to catch the bat! And fresh meat it so much better than something that’s rotting.” He moved towards the table, opening up that box like he did last night. He began to grab items out of it. There were some new things you didn’t see the night before.  _ Maybe this is a different box?  _ Some of the things he was pulling out were colorful in design. However, you did see a few things you were familiar with. Wrenches, a rather impressive assortment of knives, and even a small crowbar.

 

“Now, you’re going to tell me everything I want to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I was really excited to write this chapter, so I got it done super fast and now it's here. Anyway, expect one update a week, maybe two or three if I'm feeling super excited.
> 
> Also! I'm planning on published a Loki fanfic to join the thousands already on this site. So if you also love the God Mischief, hopefully it'll interest you. It's gonna be called "Merely Mortal"


	8. Chapter 8

You weren’t really sure how long you’ve been here, but you did know that it had definitely been more than a couple days. Maybe a week? Either way, you were to be sure to ask Grumpy just how long it had been once you got the chance. For now, however, you were just laying on your bed in pain. 

 

The Joker had taken it to heart that he was going to beat the answers out of you. However, it was clear after the first two times that he was probably just getting some sick pleasure out of beating you. Other than when The Joker wasn’t trying to ‘beat answers’ out of you, you were being watched by Grumpy. He brought you regular meals, and it’s kind of how you kept track of what time it was. He even sat down a few times to play cards with you after a lot of begging on your part that he help you pass the time. And, with a few strings pulled and an off-handed comment in one of your torture sessions with The Joker, you had been allowed a TV. Of course there was no signal down here, but Grumpy brought you a couple movies every other day to watch. 

 

You figured Grumpy was kind of going against The Joker on some of this stuff, but you also guessed it must not be too bad since Joker didn’t seem to mind any every time he came to fetch you from your little cell. 

 

And those little torture sessions? Let’s just say you didn’t like revisiting them. The first day, the questions were all related to his case, how much you knew about him, stuff about the people in the GCPD. Stuff you were expecting. But the second day it was all the same questions. At first you had thought he was just trying to see if he could make you slip up, to really make sure you weren’t lying. But once you faced a fifth session with the same questions, you knew that really wasn’t it. Again, you were pretty sure he was just doing it for his own sick pleasure.

 

And the ways he hurt you weren’t even that lethal. Unlike how he had kicked Thomas that first night you were dragged here. Sure, it was all painful, and yeah your body was covered with bruises and cuts, but that’s all he really did. He hadn’t pulled out any teeth like you had seen that one day in the bottom of his torture box. And so far none of your bones were broken. He mostly took to punching you and slamming your chair around, which included you being in it, to his own delight. When he really seemed irritated with you, he’d pull out his knife and he’d press into your throat, threatening you and letting you know just how easily your life could be over. But he never actually cut your throat. Mostly, he cut your arms, a few times into your back, too. Stuff that was easy to access and didn’t involve him having to release you in any way. And damn, did he know how to make those cuts hurt. 

 

Each session always ended with him knocking you out in some sort of way. A few times he had slammed your head against the wall until you got knocked out. But mostly he either went for that rag soaked in whatever it was, or he want for a small injection into your neck. And each time you would wake up, sore and usually with a headache with a serious case of cottonmouth. But thankfully each time you woke up, you were also bandaged. 

 

With a little bit of prying, Grumpy had let you know that he was responsible for patching you up everytime The Joker disposed of your unconscious body onto your bed. And, after the first few nights, Grumpy also began including some pills to help fight off infections and pain with your meals. You appreciated it a lot. While he was still one of your captors, at least he was helpful and didn’t seem to spit at and insult you. Unlike the henchmen who took over watch when Grumpy happened to be busy. 

 

“Oh, sweetheart. Are you ready to give me some answers?” Your eyes were pulled up to the window on the door. He seemed early today. Especially considering the fact that you didn’t even have your dinner yet. Usually it was after dinner, enough time for a movie, that The Joker would come and fetch you. But you let out a soft sigh, deciding there was no point in trying to see a rhythm to his actions.

 

“Whatever, let’s just get this over with.” You got out of bed slowly, groaning as your body seemed to cry out in agony. Whatever happened, if you were to escape, you were going to ask Gordon if you could have some PTO so you could rest at home and heal. Joker grinned at you as he opened the door, an almost permanent expression. 

 

“My, someone’s not so happy to see me!” He let out another string of giggles, letting you move ahead of him towards the oh-so-familiar room he brought you to nearly everyday. He left the door unlocked at this point, allowing you to open the door and step inside yourself rather than unlocking it. Made things quicker, too. “Well, you know the drill. Sit down so I can strap you down. Batsy is the safe word.” His last few words melted away into cackling as you sat down, putting your ankles and wrists into place to be strapped down.

 

He was relatively quick about it before he walked over to his table to his tools. He seemed to examine what he had before he turned towards you with a hammer. Now this worried you. He had never hit you with anything heavy like this. He was going to break some of your bones for sure.

 

“I’m starting to get a little bored waiting for Batsy to show up to save you. And I can’t help but admit that there are several things that I’d love to do to you. But I’ve been holding back! I don’t want to kill you, after all! At least not yet.” His tone was relatively jolly the whole time, but that last phrase was said with a low growl, his expression darkening for a moment. However, his face was soon back to its usual glee. “Now! Tell me, what do you know about me, doll?” 

 

“Well I know that you’re, again, a kingpin. Some delusional, homicidal maniac. The Clown Prince of Crime! I can’t really respond with anything else.” Joker seemed to play around with the hammer, twirling it in his hands for a bit before he began to reach for your arm, gently spreading out your fingers.

 

“Really? Try to get creative. Or else, well, I think poor lefty over here is just dying to get to know my little tool!” He grinned towards you with malice, and you could feel your pulse quicken.  _ Creative? What other names? What have I heard before. Oh god. . . _ Joker’s eyes never left yours, and his grin seemed to widen like the cheshire cat’s. Actually, that’s precisely what he reminded you of. 

 

“You’re the uh. . .jester of genocide?” Yeah, that sounded good. You liked alliteration. 

 

“Jester of genocide, eh? I like it!” He seemed delighted, throwing his hands up in a rather expressive manner before he proceeded to swing the hammer down next to your head, jumping in a mixture of surprise and fear and a startled noise left your throat. It had bounced off of the back of the chair, and Joker couldn’t help but double over in laughter at the sight of you becoming so afraid. 

 

You almost had to choke back hot tears of shame. Or maybe those tears were just all the stress finally bubbling up from being trapped here so long, being tortured day after day. Either way, his hand found its way into your hair, locking into your strands.

 

“Now, what do you know about my case?”

 

“Absolutely nothing.” 

 

“That’s different than what you’ve told me every other time.” His grin seemed to grow once more.  _ God, is that eerie. _

 

“Well yeah. You don’t seem to believe me, so there. I guess I’ll just tell you whatever. Happy?” He let out a chuckle, pulling away. He walked back to his torture box and dropped hi hammer back into it. You couldn’t see what he was grabbing, but you could hear him rummaging around in there. 

 

“Very good! You’re learning. The truth doesn’t matter. After all, they’ll beat you all the same.” 

 

“They? What do you mean?” He walked back over to you. He found what he was looking for. It was a rather sharp looking pocket knife, and it glinted ominously. Not to mention it was spotless.  _ Did he buy a new blade just for this? _

 

“You know, everyone thinks that you need to be broken to be insane.” He had obviously ignored your question. “You need to be infected with some sort of mental disease.” His eyes glanced over you for a moment before he crouched down in front of you.

 

“Is that so?” You gave a nervous smile, unsure of what he was trying to do.

 

“Well I beg to differ. You see, anyone can go insane.” His free hand reached out, gently slipping beneath the edge of your shirt. You shivered at his touch. His gloves felt really soft as he slid them up your stomach, and you could feel the heat of his hand through the material. He kept lifting the material so your stomach was exposed before he placed the tip of the blade just above your hips. “All it takes is one bad day.” Then he dug the knife into your skin.

 

It hurt like hell, and you saw stars in your eyes. You let out a cry of pain, trying to pull yourself away from the knife. The Joker only seemed to click his tongue in some form of disappointment. 

 

“Settle down, doll. You’ll ruin your gift.” He kept pulling the knife through your skin, slowly, deliberately.  _ Gift?  _

 

“What gift?” 

 

“Well, everytime you meet expectations you will get another letter.”

 

“To spell what, exactly?”

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” His chuckle rumbled up in his throat once more as he curled the blade, dragging it back upwards. 

 

“Joker”

 

“Precisely.” You felt like you were gonna be sick. Or maybe that was just the white hot pain from being cut up. Your eyes drifted down and  _ oh god. _ You caught sight of his blade digging into your flesh. Watching it only seemed to amplify the feeling of your skin being tugged at before tearing at the firm pressure of Joker’s steady hand. And his glove was soaked with your blood.  _ Nope, can’t do it.  _ And with that sight in mind, you passed out. 

 

~*~*~*~

 

When you came to, you were back in your cell and you could still feel the dull throbbing of where Joker had carved the first letter of his name into your skin. You winced as you tried to sit up, the pain flaring up. 

 

“I’d take it a little easy. Wouldn’t want my gift to heal wrong.” Your head whipped to the side fast enough to warrant a slight tinge of pain. The Joker was watching you, sitting in your chair where your little desk was. And there was your food sitting next to him. 

 

“What are you doing in here?”

 

“Am I not allowed to visit my toy?” You pressed your lips together in a thin line before you slowly moved yourself into a sitting position. 

 

“I’m not your toy.”

 

“Nonsense! I can come fetch you from your little box to play and torture you as a please. And those little playdates keep me well entertained.” He began to chuckle deliriously again, getting up from the chair. You thought he was going to go for your throat or something, but that wasn’t the case. Instead, he turned to grab your tray of food, bringing it towards you as he sat on the edge of your bed. “Now, eat up. Things are about to get exciting!”

 

“Why do you say that?”

 

“Well you know I’ve been keeping you here as bait. Unless you’ve forgotten why you’re alive.” He sneered towards you as you began to tear the small bread roll apart into bite-sized pieces, putting them into your mouth to chew.

 

“No, I’m perfectly aware that I’m bait. Way to make a girl feel special.” He seemed entertained by your answer, letting out a startling laugh. You just kept nervously eating in response while he calmed himself down. 

 

“Well, you see from what I’ve been hearing, Batsy is on his way here as we speak. With little boy wonder by his side!” His grin grew again, like he had told himself an unspoken joke. 

 

“And that’s a good thing? I mean, you’re not worried about Batman?” The Joker eyed you before he stood up.

 

“Of course it is. You see, me and Batsy were made for each other. Why, he’s just as mad as me! He’ll never admit it, but without me he’s worthless.” His voice dropped down to a low snarl and a scowl took over his features, but with a blink of an eye he was back to his usual, sneering self. 

 

“And what about you? Are you worthless without Batman?” His eyes flashed towards you and you instantly regret what you said. “Sorry, just forget I said that.” He loomed over you for a moment, his still bloody glove reaching out to grip your chin. 

 

“Don’t get smart with me, girl. I could easily change my mind and kill you right now.” You felt a spike of adrenaline surge through your body. The way he said that sounded so much more sane. Cold and calculated. It was almost like he was a different person.  _ Is there someone beneath his alias? Someone worse than he already is?  _ He released you again, scoffing as if you weren’t even worth his time. “Just sit here like the helpless little girl you are. We’ll meet again.” He never popped back into The Joker’s character that entire time, and just like that he left the your cell. 

 

You just decided to eat in silence, mulling over what he had said. If Batman was really coming with Robin, then you guessed all you really had to do was wait to be saved, right?

 

Turns out, your hunch was right. A little bit after you had finished your meal you could hear explosions and all sorts of other chaos reaching your cell from some of the upper levels. You wondered just what Joker had set up for Batman up there.

 

The sounds continued for quite a while, but eventually you saw someone’s shadow outside of your door. You began to stand up before you heard the guy’s voice. He was spraying something near the door’s lock.

 

“Stand back! I don’t want you to get hurt.” You did as he asked, watching as he clicked a small button, causing whatever he had sprayed down to explode. And out of the dust and debris came a rather young looking guy with a shaved head, wearing a red, yellow, and black suit with a mask covering his eyes. “Come with me. You’re safe now.”


	9. Chapter 9

After the door of your cell was blown open, Robin had introduced himself and had picked you up to carry you away. You didn’t really have much time to protest. But as he carried you away, navigating much easily through the building than you probably could, you could hear distant gunshots and the cackling laughter of Joker. It made your stomach churn.

 

Eventually Robin brought you out through what looked like the main part of the building, and out the front doors. And outside waiting there was a sleek, red car. It looked fancy and fast, but even though it was on, it hardly made any noise. Robin placed you down and clicked a button on his wrist, causing the passenger door to open up before you. 

 

“Get in, I’ll take you home.” You complied, watching as the door sealed over you. Robin made his way around, casting a nervous glance towards the building before he held a finger up to his ear, talking with an urgent expression. You guessed that he was probably talking with Batman and left it that. But whatever they were discussing, Robin clearly didn’t like it. 

 

Either way, he still made his way around to the driver’s side, the door opening for him so he could slid in before the door sealed behind him as well. 

 

“Are things okay in there?” Robin glanced towards you for a moment before he sighed, shrugging.

 

“Honestly, I don’t know. But Batman says he can handle it for now. He just wants me to get you home. So, tell me where you live.” 

 

You gave him your address and watched as he plugged it into a gps on a touchscreen in the middle of the console. As soon as he hit ‘navigate’ a feminine voice spoke up, giving him directions. 

 

And, just as you had predicted, the car was definitely fast. Not to mention, almost silent. Other than a slight hum, and probably the sound of the car whipping past the buildings and other parked cars in the dead of night, there wasn’t much to hear. It was probably built for stealth, now that you thought of it. 

 

Your eyes glanced out the window. You seemed to be in a more rundown part of Gotham. You’d never been down there in the slums before. If you were being honest, every alley looked like one you were probably gonna be shot and killed in if you were found alone in one. Then again, all alleys were a bit scary in a city that attracted crime like Gotham did. 

 

It hardly took much time for you to be back in an area that was familiar with the way Robin drove, though. And soon enough he was slowly down before the car came to a stop before your apartment building. You looked over at him, unsure what he wanted you to do. Were you gonna go up there yourself? If you did, at least you had a key hidden to get in. You had lost your purse at some point during your kidnapping, so your belongings were gone unless Batman or Robin went back and found them.

 

“I’m not going to be able to stay with you here, but I will give you this. It’s a throwaway with Batman and I’s number on it. Just call us if something comes up, alright?” Robin held a small phone out towards you. It was black, and flipped open. You were about to complain, opening your mouth, but you quickly closed it. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, after all. 

 

“Thanks, I’ll definitely call if I think I’m in trouble.” You tucked the phone away in your pocket before Robin let your door open again to let you out. You unbuckled yourself and stepped out. Robin didn’t look like he was going to get out, so you thanked him, dipping your head in his direction before you went inside.

 

Your key was hidden below your mailbox. It was taped there about four months ago when you locked yourself out by accident after going to get groceries before. Ever since then, you’ve kept it hidden here. You pulled the tape off, the key attached, and made your way up the stairs to your floor. You tried to settle back into things, trying to think about what you had to do when you got home. You haven’t been there for a while. You could take out the trash, put away some of the dishes you had left drying next to your sink. Still, you didn’t feel like this was right. 

 

You reached your door and unlocked it, stepping inside. You made your way to the kitchen, placing the key down onto the counter before you flicked on the lights. Your apartment looked like how it was when you left it. Aside from being able to clearly smell your garbage, nothing seemed different from when you had left it. 

 

You decided you might as well get to work, so you made your way over to the trash can, lifting the bag out and tying it shut. You hefted the bag up, making sure it wasn’t going to leak or anything, before you made your way back towards your front door. You opened the door, letting it sit open as you made your way down the hall to the trash chute. And, in mere moments, you opened the door, threw your trash in, and let it disappear. 

 

You made your way back to your apartment and put another trash bag into your bin before you decided that you should probably call Gordon to let him know you were okay. You grabbed the one phone home you did have off of the wall near your front door and made your way to your bedroom so you could grab your notebook with phone numbers in it from your bedside table’s drawer. 

 

You found Gordon’s number pretty easily and typed it in, letting the phone ring as you held it towards your ear. It took a couple rings before Gordon finally answered, sounding somewhat annoyed.

 

“Hello? Who’s calling me?” You almost regretted calling him. You figured he must be stressed out if Joker’s causing issues around Gotham.

 

“Hey, Gordon.” It took him a moment to recognize but as soon as he did, his tone seemed to warm up, though he still sounded weary. 

 

“Hey, kid. How are ya?”

 

“I’ve been better.” 

 

“Yeah, I could figure. How did you hold up? I mean, I’m glad you’re obviously alright. Alive and talking, that is.”

 

“It felt like forever if I’m being honest. And. . .well-” Gordon could sense how uneasy you are and interrupted before you had a chance to even say it.

 

“I understand. Don’t worry about things up here at the GCPD. I just want you to take a couple weeks off, alright? How does a month sound?”

 

“But what about the case? And money? I can still come in.”

 

“No, no. Don’t fight it. You’ll still get paid and we can just work with Batman to go over the evidence and such. Just take it easy. But we are going to need you to swing by the station sometime this week. Just so we can file what happened and try to learn more about what Joker’s doing. You alright with that?”

 

“Yeah, that’s fine with me, Gordon. Thank you. I’ll be sure to visit soon, okay?”

 

“Sounds good. Take it easy and call if you need anything.”

 

“Yeah, of course. Bye.”

 

“Talk to you later.” And with that, your phone call with Gordon was over. While the prospect of being able to earn money without even having to go to work would be pretty cool under normal circumstances, this wasn’t normal to you. If anything, you felt like you might go stir crazy with nothing to do all day. 

 

Either way, you went ahead and glanced at your clock. It was approaching time for dinner. You didn’t really eat much, and some comfort food was needed. And at least cooking might offer you a distraction for a little while. So, checking through your fridge to see what was good to use, you decided you’d make some spaghetti. It also meant you could use some of your vegetables in the sauce before they went too bad. 

 

So, you spent your next hour happily lost in the flow of things. Chopping up vegetables, browning the meat, cooking the pasta, and making the sauce. Once everything was done, you drained the noodles and removed the pan of sauce from the hot coils on the stove so it wouldn’t burn before you poured in the noodles, stirring it all together. It smelt wonderful, and you were overjoyed just at the thought of a proper meal. 

 

However, you found yourself really unable to fully enjoy your meal seeing as just as soon as you had some plated up and on your table, you heard your window out onto the fire escape squeak its way open. 

 

“Oh come on. Seriously?” You whispered to yourself. You tried to keep your cool, slowly creeping across the floor until you could pick up one of your large kitchen knives from your butcher’s block. You imagined it was probably one of the Joker’s goons. Or maybe just some poor thief with impeccable timing. Either way, you probably had to go scare them off yourself, whoever they were. 

 

So, slowly turning into your living room, you were met with a large black mass. You cried out, flinging your hand, knife held firmly in its clasp, towards the intruder, only to have it stopped by their grip. 

 

“I’d watch where you were swinging that. Someone might get hurt.” You could hear the amusement behind the deep voice, and you sort of rolled your eyes.

 

“Look, if you wanted to come talk to me, just call me. Or use the front door! God, you don’t have to sneak into my window and make me worry for no reason!” He let your wrist go and you let your arm drop back by your side. You turned away from him and returned to your little dining area so you could actually eat. He didn’t exactly apologize for breaking into your apartment, however. He just sort of followed after you. “So what do you want?”

 

“We need to talk about Joker.”

 

“What about him?” You twirled some noodles onto your fork distractedly. You didn’t want to talk about him, really. At least not to someone you didn’t know.

 

“I need to know what he said to you. And what he did.”

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” You scoffed and made a dismissive motion towards some of the scarring and bandages on your arms.

 

“Well, yes. It’s obvious he tortured you, but why?”

 

“He called me his toy. He’s insane. That’s all it was, alright? He just asked me the same stupid questions every day and tortured me everytime I answered. That’s all. Now do you see any reasoning in that?” You could feel that knot forming in your throat, hard to swallow. Your voice wavered, but you didn’t cry, just turning back to your food, taking a small bite to distract yourself.

 

“I see. Well, please, just stay safe, then. I don’t believe Joker is done with you yet.”

 

“Why not? Why isn’t he? He said I was just bait for you, you know.”

 

“Because he taunted me about hurting you. And that means you’ve caught his eye. And Joker doesn’t give up quite too easily.”

 

“Well I can watch myself, thank you. I can always just stay with Gordon or someone else from the station until things clear over.” Batman’s jaw tensed, but he didn’t say anything else, just moved back towards your living room, you guessed back to the window. “Batman?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“He got away, didn’t he?” He didn’t say anything again, but you heard your window close again, which meant he had left. Even though he didn’t answer you, you knew that Joker had gotten away from the vigilante. It almost made you angry, but then again you knew you probably shouldn’t judge him too harshly. After all, under that mask had to be a man. But the news did make your stomach curl with unease. Perhaps you should try to find someone to stay with. After all, your apartment surely couldn’t be safe.

 

But who did you know that could take you in and keep you safe? You thought about Gordon, but he was always up at the station. And something told you he’d probably bug you about Joker and his case, anyway. Or at least where you’re involved. You decided you probably didn’t want that.

 

Leslie? She seemed pretty nice, but you quite honestly didn’t talk to her much. And not to mention you didn’t have her number written down anywhere or memorized. So that option was kind of pointless anyway. 

 

You sighed and started to search for your little notebook with the numbers written in it again. If you looked through it, you might be able to find someone you knew and trusted enough to stay with. Your thoughts returned to Gordon as an option, and, looking through the various numbers you had, you decided that he was probably your best bet.

 

Right as you started to reach for your phone, however, it started to ring. You checked it, but there was no caller ID. The little screen on the phone just said “blocked caller.” Curious enough to answer it, you picked up.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hello darling,” called a familiar voice into your ear. “It’s me, Fish. Mind if we chat?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long since my last update! Things have been pretty hectic with school, but hopefully after I finish writing this essay things will settle down and I'll be able to write consistently again. Thank you for reading, btw!


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